Page:Forget Me Not 1830.pdf/2



Oú va Et la feuille de la rose, et la feuille du laurier?

On thy path of music whither May, sweet wind, thy wandering be? And say, what dost thou bring hither On thy azure wings with thee?

My wild course has been where, flowing, The silver fountains sing; From the roses by them growing Floats a rose-leaf on my wing.

"Through a grove of laurel breathing   Came a young poet’s song; From the green boughs round him wreathing    I bore a leaf along."

For that leaf of crimson shining, That one on shadeless hue— What art thou, sweet wind, designing? With those leaves what wilt thou do?

"The red leaf of the lover,   That green leaf of the brave— The fair earth I bear them over,    To leave them on the grave."